The Young Lady
by ClassicalHarry
Summary: Sirius noticed that Hermione has a crush on his doormat godson. He decides to start a new scheme with money, love and politics to turn the wizarding world upside down. Simply by setting up Hermione with Harry, and introducing them to politics, can he thwart the political ambitions of Voldemort?
1. Chapter 1

Synopsis: Sirius has noticed that his godson is not living the way a Lord Potter fully deserves to live. He also noticed that a certain girl has a crush on the Boy Who Lived, which she hasn't admitted. He decides to solve both problems with one scheme, namely, setting Harry up for Hermione!

Chapter 1.

It was a warm summer morning, and Hermione had just woken up and rubbed the dust out of her eyes, when a colorful, tropical bird dropped a letter on Hermione's desk before escaping through her window, which she had left open to catch the cool night breeze. Hermione opened it, and a heavy silver key dropped out with a thunk. She unfolded the letter:

Dear Hermione,

Thank you very much for your efforts in securing my escape from Snape and the dementors. I'm in a safe place far from the British Ministry for Magic, where no British arrest warrants are valid, due to some recent scuffles between their respective Muggle governments, fighting over some islands or something.

Since my escape this spring I've been worried about Harry. I've noticed and heard from Moony, that Harry isn't living the way a boy with his social status ought to. He didn't seem to have any good clothes apart from his school robes, and I later found out from Moony that his muggle family are worthless people who treat him terribly.

As a result he lives as if he was a pauper and has no confidence. I'm certain you're aware of this but don't know how to help him. So I have a plan, but I'll need your help, and as you'll see, there will be benefits to my plan for you as well. I have enclosed the key to a small vault I have opened for this project. Gringotts, which for some reason is taking Harry Potter on his word that I'm innocent, has been helpful in this regard. I'm exonerated under Goblin law.

I want you to spend the money lavishly on yourself and Harry. Don't think of any of this as a bribe, but as thanks from me for saving me from the dementors and Snivelly. I'd like you to go and take Harry out to town with this money. Buy him and yourself fancy robes, as well as good Muggle clothes. I'm not sure what's in style nowadays, but no doubt those threadbare rags he wears aren't.

After that, take him out to dinner. Also let him know the following facts:  
1\. He owns a mansion in London. Gringotts knows where it is and has the key.  
2\. He has numerous prerogatives even as a minor, because he's the Lord Potter.  
3\. You like him, don't deny it, you want to snog him. You need to be assertive!

Love, Sirius Black III, aka Padfoot.

PS: He currently lives at 4 Privet DR, Little Whinging, Surrey.

Hermione put down the letter, her face a little pink, and quickly got dressed, and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She was embarrassed because she had spent her last two summers with her parents wishing she could see her friends from school, and hadn't thought of asking Harry where he lived in the Muggle world.

She was also embarrassed for a more common reason; Sirius had hit the nail right on the head in implying she liked Harry as more than just a friend. He had even challenged her to take Harry out to dinner!

She supposed it would be fine for her to ask Harry on a uh... date. Modern times after all, she could be the one to ask.

She walked down to the second floor of her house, where her parents were, and mustered her courage as her face started to glow.

"Mom, Dad, I'm going out today."

"Oh? Where to?" her father replied.

"Um... to see Harry Potter, you know. On a, a DATE!" She could now feel her face glowing with embarassment.

Her father smirked a little. "Well, be back before midnight, please."

"What? You aren't going to object?" she asked.

"No, from what you've told me he's a fine boy," her father explained, "saved you from a ten foot troll and all."

"Um, ok, I'll be going out now then..." she grabbed her purse and dashed down the stairs, through the dentistry office on the first floor, and out the door before her mother, who was poking a bald man's gums with a pointy depth-measuring probe, could stop her work and turn around.

She walked down the street, then paused to jot down Sirius' suggested activities in her planner. (Which, as a matter of course, she had on her at all times.) Then she continued down a dead end alleyway where noone would see her, and stuck her wand out to summon the Knight Bus.

With a bang, it appeared, and she stepped on.

"Oi, it's you again is it? To Diagon alley?" Stan Shunpike, the conductor, asked.

"I'm going to Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, actually. Although we'll be calling you again." She replied.

"Wanna hot chocolate?"

"Sure!"

"Oi, really?"

"No. How much?"

"12 sickles." Stan replied, and Hermione counted them out from her purse.

The bus was, as usual, empty this early in the morning; it was normally used mostly by wizards after midnight too pissed to safely apparate or fly. Rather than sitting in a seat, she grabbed one of the handles on the ceiling and held on tight, as the bus accelerated, swerved and shimmied for a few minutes.

"Here we are, Privet Drive." Stan announced to the whole bus, as if there was a crowd.

She ignored him and stepped off, to see the most boring suburban street she could possibly imagine. She glanced along the rows of practically identical houses, to see that she was, in fact, in front of Number Four. She paused for a minute, steeling herself and forcing her blush down. When she felt she could stay calm, she strode down the concrete walk next to the driveway and knocked three times at the door.

A bony, horse-faced woman answered the door and snapped, "we aren't buying anything and we go to a decent Anglican church, no funny business."

"Don't worry about that, actually, I was hoping to speak with Harry Potter. I'm his friend from school." Hermione supposed they got a lot of door to door people in a place like this, and sympathized a bit.

The horse-faced woman was taken aback and gestured up the stairs without a word. As Hermione entered, she shut the door and then called up the stairs.

"Harry! Some... freak girl from your abnormal school wants a word with you! I'm sending her up!

She turned to Hermione and instructed her. "He's in the second bedroom down the hall. But. But no funny business, please." She looked like she was afraid Hermione would curse her.

Hermione said nothing more to the frazzled Mrs Dursley and quietly climbed the stairs and knocked on the second door.

"Come in, Hermione?"

She opened the door, noting the number of locks thereon, to see her crush. "Harry! I. I came because have something to tell, er, to ask you."

Harry was sitting on a shoddy bed, in a room that was far less well kept than the others, surrounded by junk. He was wearing grey, ill-fitting clothes and ratty shoes. His hair was unkempt and his glasses were once again taped together. But to Hermione, he was handsome and he shined.

"What is it Hermione? I can't imagine there's much I know that you don't."

"Er, I mean, I came to ask you, to come with me to Diagon Alley and some other places today, er, on a date, er, like a boyfriend date thing." She blurted out and went pink.

Harry's eyes went wide, but he managed to keep from blushing somehow, and then replied "Er, okay, I mean, I'd be honoured. How did you know where I live though?"

Hermione smiled and then broke into a grin. "Your godfather arranged things and sent me an owl, er, a tropical bird of some kind. He even suggested an itinerary which I've got summarized here."

"Of course you do. Well, first let's get out of this place. Aunt Petunia won't object, the Dursleys have been much less of a problem this summer for some reason. Maybe it's also Padfoot's doing. Let's go."

They went out of Harry's messy bedroom, and stepped smartly down the stairs together.

"Where are you freaks going now?" Petunia's voice conveyed derision, but her face betrayed fear.

"We're going to London, we won't need dinner." Hermione attempted to imitate Petunia's tone.

Petunia snorted like a horse and waved them both out the door.

Hermione led Harry to the kerb. "Hold up a moment, I'll summon the knight bus, don't worry, this doesn't count as underage magic legally."

She stuck out her wand and the knight bus appeared just where it was when she got off it.

"Brilliant, Hermione! I didn't know wizards had a bus." Harry stepped on, following Hermione.

"We didn't even go anywhere... anyway, where to?" Stan grumbled.

"Diagon Alley." Hermione instructed.

"That'll be 11 sickles, each, then."

"I have some, hold on..." Harry dug into the pockets of his loose jeans.

"Here, one galleon, five sickles." Hermione handed them to Stan.

"You didn't have to pay for that!" Harry protested.

Hermione grinned. "Wait 'til you see what Padfoot has planned."

Harry reflected that he hadn't often seen Hermione smile so much. He liked it, and decided he'd just trust Padfoot's plan.

"Now, this is gonna be a pretty rough ride. Hold on to that strap right there."

Harry held on firmly as the bus once again careened through unsuspecting countryside and then city streets, noting how it never actually hit anything, but rather obstacles jumped left right and up to make way.

The bus made a earsplitting screech, and then its engine backfired as it came to a stop in front of the Leaky Cauldron. "Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley." Stan Shunpike announced, calling over the heads of his two actual passengers.

"So er, Hermione, what's first on our plan?" Harry asked, as they both stepped off the bus and onto the kerb in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

"First, we should go to Gringotts. According to Padfoot, this key is to a vault containing a reward for us for helping him, and money to spend on our er, our dates. Also, he says you own a house in London and Gringotts has the key, so we should ask them about that. Maybe you don't have to live with that mean woman. After that, apparently you're a Lord, and have some sort of prerogatives, that means, special rights, because of that. So I want to get a book explaining the wizarding peerage system. Then we'll go to lunch I suppose."

"Sounds good to me. I'd love to be able to live away from the Dursleys."

The two walked into the Leaky Cauldron together, holding hands, and some whispering started, but Hermione led Harry through by the hand, and into the courtyard beyond, where she tapped the brick wall in the right place, and the bricks rearranged into the familiar archway leading into the Alley.

There were some young people in the alley, as school was out, and Harry vaguely recognized a few faces in Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor's patio.

They walked down to the imposing columns of Gringotts and Hermione let go of Harry's hand as they entered.

"Go over to that clerk with the sign that says 'Estates'. I saw Malfoy talk to him once, you probably also qualify."

Hermione then got in line for the regular accounts.

Harry looked at her and back at the 'Estates' clerk. He might as well try it, he decided. He strode over to the goblin, who regarded him with the same indifference that goblins usually did, and asked "Mr Potter, how can I help you today."

"I've heard that I own a house in London, I'd like the key and i want to know where it is" Harry explained.

"Yes?" He got up and retrieved a file from a large cabinet behind him. "Indeed you do, Mr Potter. It is at 17 and a half Argyll Road in Kensington, London. If you would like the key, either I can have it fetched from the Potter vault or I can have a clerk take you to retrieve it yourself."

"I guess I'd prefer not to go down to the vault myself, if that's no trouble." Harry replied.

"Very well. Ratcook!" he barked to a smaller goblin standing by a small minecart on rails that led into a small shaft. "Go fetch item 75720 from the Potter vault, 704."

Ratcook pushed the cart and hopped in before it entered the mine shaft and disappeared.

Harry frowned. "Excuse me, isn't my vault number 618?"

"The vault for you personally, and formerly the personal vault of Charlus Potter, is 618. 704 is the Potter family vault, which as you are the sole living Potter, you also have full access to." The goblin explained this in a tone as if it was obvious, and he didn't understand why Harry wouldn't know already.

"I see." Harry stood in silence for a few minutes.

"Harry! Still waiting? I hope everything went ok." Hermione accosted him.

"It did. I'm waiting for them to fetch the key.

Do you have some paper? I need to write down the address and some other stuff so I don't forget."

"Of course I do!" She fetched a small notepad and biro out of her handbag, and waited for him to dictate.

"17½ Argyll Rd. Kensington" she wrote as Harry spoke. "Harry's pers. vault is 618, family vault is 704."

"...and that's all I found out." Harry finished.

"Interesting. A lot of rich people live in Kensington, so I suppose rich wizards might also." Hermione explained.

With a trundling sound, Ratcook reemerged from the mine shaft and hopped out. He handed a large key of shiny bluish metal to the Estates clerk, who inspected it, and then handed it to Harry.

"See the Potter sigil engraved on the bow." The goblin remarked.

On the handle of key, indeed Harry could see a shield, divided in two stacked parts, with a lion, red on gold at the top, and some sort of flower, gold on blue, in the bottom.

"Ok, thank you very much...um what was your name?" Harry asked the estates goblin.

"I am Bitpick." The goblin seemed to be smiling, although he showed a disconcerting number of teeth.

"Thank you, Bitpick."

"You're very welcome, Mr. Potter." the goblin replied.

"Shall we go?"

"Okay Hermione, where are we going next?"

"The bookshops." Hermione replied. "Actually, it's only 11, maybe we can get some clothes too."

END CHAPTER 1 DRAFT


	2. Chapter 2

Synopsis: The young couple on their first date, buy an interesting book, and some fancy clothes. Meanwhile, rumours are spreading.

The sun was high in the sky when the two stepped down from the marble entranceway of Gringotts Bank, and the cobbles warmed Harry's feet through his trainers' thin soles. Looking around across the intersection of the boulevards, he could see Flourish and Blotts', but Hermione tapped him on the shoulder and pointed in the other direction.

"There's a better bookshop called 'Erasmus' Lead Letters' on the other end of the Alley. We're looking for some good books on peerages, and it might be a good idea to get something on the general state of politics, although I do know a bit about how it works from Hogwarts: A History." Hermione explained.

"Ok, maybe you can tell me about that?" Harry strolled alongside her.

"The Wizengamot is a single house legislature with some hereditary members, called 'Lords', some elected members, called 'Warlocks' and some members appointed for life, called 'Senators'."

Harry looked a little confused.

"Er, that is, the Wizengamot is a group of wizards who vote and decide the laws of Wizarding Britain. Some of the people in it are Lords, and have the right to be there because they are the head of a powerful family, such as the Malfoys. Some are elected by ordinary wizards who live in an area, and they're called 'Warlocks'"

"Ok, and who appoints the Senators then?" Harry asked.

"The Minister for Magic, who is chosen by a majority of the Wizengamot recommends them to the Queen, who almost always appoints them. This is, by custom, only done right after the Wizengamot elects a new Minister."

"I think I understand. So why is Dumbledore the 'Chief Warlock'?" Harry remembered the title from Dumbledore's chocolate frog card.

"The Chief Warlock is elected by the warlocks only, and oversees the procedures when the Wizengamot is voting on laws. Ok, lets get those books."

Now they were standing in front of a dusty store. The dust on the inside of the windows shone in the sunlight and Harry couldn't see inside. In a gaudy green, heavily flaking paint above the door a sign read 'Eras us L ad Le t rs'.

"Are you sure it's open?" Harry chuckled a bit.

"I think so, you'll see" Hermione replied. She rapped on the door, and to Harry's surprise, a voice he recognized from his Quidditch games called "We're open, hold up a moment!"

The door unlocked and opened, and indeed, it was Katie Bell, the Gryffindor chaser!

"Oh, it's Hermione!" she smiled, and then "and Harry, so good to see you! I run the bookshop as my chore during the summer, so I see Hermione from time to time."

Rather than her Quidditch kit or her uniform, Katie was wearing a simple red summer dress. It looked so nice on her, that Hermione felt self-conscious that she was wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt.

Katie got out of the way and led them into the shop, which had some couches surrounded by bookshelves, which mostly blocked the windows. It was lit by lanterns hanging from the ceiling. On the far end, there was a cash register on a table, next to some stairs.

"What kind of book are you two looking for?" Katie asked.

"Uh, a book on how the Wizard peerage works and what the rights of Lords are, also a book on politics in general." Harry replied.

Hermione was already squatting and scanning the shelves.

"Hermione, I think it will be over on the next shelf to your right. Er, no, left. Top shelf." Katie called. "That's political treatises."

Hermione frowned. "'The Dumbledore-Grindlewald Conspiracy' by Castor Malfoy. 'The Lie of Pure Blood' by Greta Prewett. These sound more like manifestos. I was hoping for a book on the political processes..."

Harry decided to look around himself, starting on the shelf next to him. Katie went behind the register table and consulted a small parchment, while writing something on it.

"Oh! Hermione, it says there's some reference books over on that corner." She hopped over the couches to take a look herself, and the two followed.

"Here." Hermione found a slim volume bound in plain leather. "'The Rights, Dignities and Customs of the Mage-Lord, the Warlock, and the Senator in the Wizengamot' by Cantankerous Nott. This isn't exactly what I want, I was hoping for something that would also explain contemporary politics, but it should answer some of the questions I have. Hmm, this looks short enough, how about we sit together and read this until lunchtime?" She turned to Harry.

"Um, I don't think I can read as fast as you, so maybe you can read it and then explain it to me? Also, weren't we going to get clothes?" Harry reminded her. At this, Katie acquired a mischievous look.

Hermione deflated a little, but smiled as she imagined Harry in some nicer clothes. "Yeah, let's do that, I'll read this later." She turned to Katie. "how much for this?"

Katie was giggling a bit. "Are you two... on a DATE?" The two flushed red immediately. "A short book, not rare, small pictures, leather bound? One galleon for that." she said, attempting, and failing, to imitate a businesslike tone.

Hermione took the gold coin from her bag and paid. When Katie rung it up the cash register's rotating display curiously read "1G" then "GOOD SALE!".

"Also, for good clothes I recommend Twilfitt and Tattings. Madam Malkin is nice enough you know, but her stock isn't as... nice. No silk, drab colors. Her wool cloaks are nice and warm though..." Katie trailed off.

"Anyway, don't let me delay you on your date. Get him, Hermione; and get him out of those ghastly clothes!" Katie rushed Hermione and Harry out of her shop, grinned at the two of them from ear to ear, and then shut the door tight.

Hermione was blushing but quickly cleared her head and led Harry by the hand again, only a bit down the alley. She had never gone into Twilfitt and Tattings but had often admired the dress robes they displayed in their windows. She had instead bought normal, undelicate witches' robes at Madam Malkin's, just as in the muggle world she wore jeans and a t-shirt. But for today, she felt it was paramount to impress her date.

Small, fluffy clouds floated in the sky and one drifted to obscure the Sun, as they reached the elegant robe shop. "Twilfitt and Tattings' Formal Witches' and Wizards' Outfitters." was in silver letters on the door. The entire exterior was painted a forest green. Harry was slightly discomforted by the prominent Slytherin colors but decided to keep an open mind since Katie had recommended the place.

They entered the shop to find the interior decorated with simple grey-blue walls and a bench and some tables in plain oak. A dressing stall with grey curtains was in the corner. An old dignified woman whose face was etched with laughter lines was sitting at a desk writing something. She wore simple black robes with little ornamentation, which, as she stood to greet them, draped in a way to made her frame look like that of a young woman.

"How may I help you, young sir, young lady?"

Harry spoke first. "Um, we're looking to buy some fancy clothes suitable for a um, Lord and his, er, um..."

"His girlfriend." Hermione finished.

"Right."

"A lord? Oh, hold on, aren't you Harry Potter!" the lady cackled like a storybook witch. "Of course, they say there's supposed to be a feature on you in the evening Prophet. Well, this is indeed the right place, let me get the two of your measurements. Would you like a single outfit, or perhaps a full set of clothes?" The woman had a greedy look in her eyes.

"A single outfit for today, but we might be back." Hermione stated firmly.

The lady rummaged under her desk and retrieved two tape measures. She waved her wand over them and muttered something, and the tape measures began flying through the air, taking measurements of their bodies.

"Oh, you've got good proportions, sir, you won't need much tailoring at all. As for the young lady, I always make those from scratch for each client. That's where my talent lies if I can say so myself. By the way, my name is Ophelia Tattings. My half-sister is in the back."

She left through a door in the back, leaving the two by themselves.

They sat down on a wooden benches. Hermione opened the book they had bought and read over the first few pages, then stopped.

"She didn't even ask us our preferences!" Hermione complained.

"Well, I did tell her we wanted clothes suitable for a Lord and his girlfriend..." Harry considered.

"Precisely, young sir!" The lady called from the back, and came back out. Except it was a different lady.

"Good morning, Mr, or I should say Lord Potter. I'm Laertes Twilfit. I've put together the right clothes."

She laid them out on the wooden table, and explained each one in turn.

"The noble house of Potter traditionally wears black, red, and gold. I've gone with a Muggle style, including trousers rather than a long tunic and tights."

"Here we have a black shirt and a red and gold tie, black trousers, and a black coat with gold around the cuffs. All atop with a black cloak with red inside."

"The hat isn't a wizard hat, it's a peaked cap, with your own Potter crest on the badge."

"The trousers have a black leather belt and loops for attaching your wand and sword. There's no jewelry, but the cloak's epaulets are gold lace." She finished.

"Sword?!" Harry exclaimed.

"You're a lord, you have, customarily, the right to carry a sword at all times. Although I believe many these days prefer to carry a sword-cane or not at all." She explained.

"Oh, that's why Mr Malfoy was carrying a cane!" Hermione exclaimed, as if this was one of the great mysteries of the world.

"Would you like to try this on?" Ms Twilfit asked, and conjured a dressing stall with her wand.

"Sure." Harry said. He was thinking it might be nice to carry a sword, since one had been so handy for him in the Chamber of Secrets.

He had no trouble with the trousers and the shirt, but had no idea with the tie. He haphazardly wrapped it around the back of his neck, then gave up.

"Uh, Ms. Twilfit, I don't know how to tie this." Harry said out loud.

"Come out here!" Hermione called.

Harry exited the stall to find Hermione with her wand pointed right at his throat.

"ligatus dux windsorum!" she intoned, and the tie tied itself. Harry looked down, and it looked about right.

"Where did you learn that spell? Er, wait, and aren't you using magic outside school?"

"You're allowed to use it outside school, just not outside magical areas." Hermione replied, a little annoyed. "I learned it from '101 Little Charms for Little Things'."

"Oh." Harry felt a little stupid, and went back in the stall to put on his coat, hat and cloak. When he emerged, Hermione made a show of looking him up and down.

"That certainly looks Lordly," Hermione remarked, "but won't it be too warm for this weather?"

"I don't feel warm though," Harry replied.

"It's got Comfort Charms on it." Ms Twilfit explained. "But you'll still need a scarf to keep warm in winter," she added.

"By the way, Ms Twilfit, do you know where Harry might be able-" Hermione cut off, as Ms Tattings had returned.

Ms Tattings was holding a bundle of red and black cloth, which she pressed into Hermione's arms, and turned to Harry.

"Ooh, my... Lord! Laertes you were right, he looks fit to besiege a city!" she exclaimed.

"I'm always right Ophelia. Though not many men just come in asking to look like a Lord." Ms Twilfit let out an evil cackle.

"Anyway, for the young miss Granger, I've got a nice dress and a cloak, in House Potter colors of course. Oh, the two of you need shoes, hold on a moment."

Ms Tattings rushed out the front door before Harry or Hermione could say anything.

"Ophelia will be quick, we've got both your foot sizes recorded."

"Anyway, Harry," Hermione reiterated, "the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery says that underage wizards and witches are only allowed to use magic in magical areas like Hogwarts and Diagon Alley. We aren't old enough to be trusted to keep spellwork discreet in areas without muggle repelling charms."

"Oh. Well, that's good to know."

Hermione reopened the book and scanned some pages. She was looking for references to swords.

"Oh, here: 'The Lord of a Noble house has the right to carry a blade in public, as does their consort, or anyone they are courting as long as the courtship lasts. It is improper however to carry a concealed dagger.'" she read. "I think you'd look even more lord-like with a sword. Besides, I think keeping Malfoy and his friends intimidated is a good idea."

"There are others you might want to intimidate." Ms Twilfit opined. "I heard rumour from another customer earlier that the Daily Prophet was writing a piece on the two of you. Apparently a reporter spotted you in the Alley holding hands."

"I don't really care what a newspaper thinks about Hermione though" Harry replied. "I like Hermione." He blushed after that.

Hermione also blushed, and a silence ensued. She continued reading 'The Rights, Dignities and Customs'. She was hoping to figure out whether Harry could move out of his relatives' house.

They were interrupted by the return of Ms Tattings, who had two shoeboxes under one arm, and a long package under the other.

"Here, Miss Granger, try these on with that outfit." she urged, and Hermione took the clothing and the shoebox she was proffered into the changing stall.

To her relief, the dress did not include a corset. It was black, shiny cloth with red embroidery of flowers, and it flared out at the hips in a way that make her suspect feather-light charms had been used on the edge. Black, opaque stockings were certainly held up with magic, as they weren't elastic at all. The cloak was similar to Harry's but had no epaulets. There was a leather belt which, after trying several orientations, she found fit over her shoulder and held the cloak in an aesthetically pleasing, if asymmetric, drape. Lastly the hat, a black classic witch's hat with a red feather, certainly she thought was a cute touch. The shoes were closed-toe, and pointed, with a little heel to them, though not enough that it would be hard to walk.

She emerged from the booth, and Harry looked almost entranced.

"Hermione, those clothes! Amazing!"

"You're not looking bad yourself, Harry." She noted the black, tough-looking boots Harry was wearing. "Much better than those trainers."

"And now, the final touch" Ms Tattings interjected. "I got you two a pair of matched swords. Normally a set like this would be used for formal dueling, but..."

She opened the long box, and helped them affix a pair of curved sabres to their respective belts.

"Ok, for all that, it will be 300 Galleons."

"This will definitely be worth the money to see Malfoy's face when he sees us." Hermione had a particularly vindictive looking grin as she signed a Gringotts cheque. Harry found himself sporting a similar one.

AN:

I like describing clothes. Twilfitt and Tattings' given names are from Hamlet.


	3. Chapter 3

Synopsis: Hermione and Harry avoid the press and have lunch, then scout out the Potter mansion's first floor.

"I'm getting hungry," Harry remarked. "Where should we go for lunch, the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Hold on." Hermione caught a glimpse of a silhouette. She approached the door, and through its small window spotted a woman in a hideous magenta dress loitering outside with a notepad, and a cameraman in tow.

"There's some kind of reporter outside" she announced. "No doubt hoping to interview us. I don't think I want to talk to her."

Ms Tattings took a look herself. "Yes, that's the vicious Rita Skeeter if I'm not mistaken. I like her articles, but she has no mercy. If you'd prefer not to engage her I can let you through my Floo connection."

"As for lunch, I'd suggest the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, it's very quiet this time of year, and you can floo directly there." Ms Twilfit added.

"That sounds great, I like that place."

Ms Tattings led the two gloriously dressed young sorcerors to the back room, where there was a fireplace. With a "incendio" she lit the fire.

"Have a great day, and please come back anytime!" she said, holding out the tray of Floo powder.

"I think we shall." Hermione went first, dashing the powder into the fire, and calling "Three Broomsticks!" as she stepped in.

Ignoring the sensation of hurtling through a smoky tunnel, which she had read was an illusion, she stepped forward and into the Three Broomsticks smoothly, and waited for Harry.

The place was, indeed, relatively empty, but Madam Rosmerta was chatting with Hagrid at the bar, and any room containing Hagrid could scarcely be called empty. Behind her, with a thump, Harry landed on two feet. She turned around and caught him by the arm as he stumbled forward, preventing him from falling.

"Thanks, Hermione" Harry stomped to get the ash off his new boots. "I can never get the hang of the Floo."

"Hello, Hermione, Harry!" Madam Rosmerta greeted them.

Hagrid turned around on the bar stool. "Arry! 'Ermione! Wow, that's some posh robes you've got on!"

"Would you like some lunch?" Madam Rosmerta asked, wiping down two spots on the bar next to Hagrid.

"Of course! I'd like some fish and chips." Harry replied.

"Hamburger for me please. And butterbeer." Hermione added.

"Butterbeer for me too."

Madam Rosmerta poured two perfect butterbeers from the soda fountain-like machine behind the bar.

"Ok, here you are with your drinks, the food will be ready in a bit."

"So, what's with the posh robes, you two?" Hagrid asked, sipping from a stein the size of Harry's head.

"We've decided it wouldn't hurt for Harry to start dressing nicer. He *is* a lord after all." Hermione explained.

"I remember, James Potter's Pa used to dress quite like that." Hagrid rubbed his beard.

"You knew my grandfather?" Harry asked.

"Oh, sure. Charlie Potter was a great man, they said he was Dumbledore's right-hand sword in the War. He didn't like to talk a lot though.  
He got sick later, Dumbledore said it was the curses from the war, and he died before you were born."

"Your grandma got heartsick after that, and died a year later. She was a great witch too, Dorry Potter." Hagrid finished.

"Dorry and Charlie Potter, hmm. Were they active in politics?" Hermione mused.

"Well, Charlie Potter was in the Wizengamot of course, I dunno abou' politics."

"What did my grandpa do in the war?" Harry asked.

Hagrid stared at the fire. "The second great war happened when I was in school, it started a year before I was sorted. I remember they said  
your grandpa helped to keep Grindlewald's people out of Britain's skies, and also fought on a broomstick against the German wizards when  
we retook France. They said he was the fastest wizard in all the skies. Now I think on it, it's no wonder 'Arry is so good on a broom."

"Here's your food, Harry, Hermione." Madam Rosmerta had returned from the kitchen. "Oh, Hagrid, you look rather serious. What have you  
been talking about?"

"'Arry here was asking about James' Pa and the Second Great War. An' I was telling him how Charlie Potter helped beat Grindlewald." Hagrid  
explained.

"And that came up because I convinced Harry to dress more like his real rank in society, and the shop we went to seems to have taken a  
historical inspiration."

"I like it, it's a connection to my family." Harry smiled, and began wolfing down his fish and chips.

"And it looks dashing too." Hermione grinned.

"Well, that explains that. Your dad didn't dress quite like that, but I do remember many of his non-school outfits were black red and gold." Madam Rosmerta recalled.

About that moment, a quite large owl flew in through the open windows, and dropped a stack of newspapers on a table. Madam Rosmerta bustled around the bar to fetch them.

"Oh, look, you're the headline! 'The Boy Who Loved'. There's no picture of you though. Did you give them the slip?" Madam Rosmerta tossed one of the papers to Harry, who caught it reflexively.

"Uh, oh." Harry muttered. He began to read some of it out loud.

"This morning, Harry Potter was seen by several people in Diagon Alley. The Boy Who Lived is well known for his seclusion from society, but today appeared to be on a date with Hermione Granger, a girl who is in his year and in Gryffindor. We were unable to interview Harry Potter himself, but we interviewed several other celebrities and members of the public in the last hour, and they had this to say."

"Lord Lucius Malfoy was of the opinion that 'this match is typical of what we know of the Potter family.' He commented on Miss Granger that 'I am told she's a know-it-all.' Albus Dumbledore was out of the country, but Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts Minerva McGonagall said that the two were close in school. Lady Augusta Longbottom commented that she wished her own grandson, Neville, would find 'a good smart girl like that Granger'."

"-I think that's enough." Hermione was blushing from the praise, even if it was from a perfect stranger.

"Did you two give the paper the slip?" Madam Rosmerta smirked.

"We did. We flooed right from the clothing store to here." Hermione explained.

"Wher're you two off to after this?" Hagrid asked.

"Well, I apparently have a house in London. I've never been there, so we're going to see it."

"Oh, the old Potter house. Now I think on it, I heard Sirius Black used to live there, after he ran away from home. Your grandparents must have took him in." Rosmerta commented.

"And then he turned around and betrayed 'em to You Know Who." Hagrid growled.

"Actually, he didn't. Peter Pettigrew did. That's why Sirius went after him." Harry blurted out.

"What?! But they convicted Sirius and threw him in Azkaban for it!" Madam Rosmerta exclaimed, shocked.

"Sirius was never actually put on trial. They didn't convict him, they simply assumed he was guilty." Hermione explained, and scowled at the injustice.

"They threw Hagrid in Azkaban without a trial too." Harry pointed out.

"I s'pose Black oughta of had a trial, but why do you think Black was innocent? I heard he blew Pettigrew up so all they found was a finger."

"Because Peter Pettigrew is still alive. I've seen him; he looked a little older than in that album you gave me, but it was him. He was missing a finger." Harry said simply.

"Really? That's interesting, then all you need to do to prove Sirius innocent is catch Pettigrew. I'll have to hear that story sometime." Rosmerta pointed out.

The two had both finished their food, and Rosmerta took the plates and put them away.

"Well, I'll believe you if you say you've seen Pettigrew." Hagrid decided.

"I think it's time for us to go check out this house. Hagrid, a pleasure as always!" Hermione smiled at the huge man.

"Always glad to see you too, 'Arry, 'Ermione."

Harry went for the door, but Hermione tapped him on the shoulder.

"Not that way, school's out. We need to Floo back to London."

"Oh, right." Harry followed her to the fireplace.

"Leaky Cauldron!" Harry called and stepped in.

When he landed, this time he managed to not fall. The Leaky Cauldron was full, but his eyes were drawn to a woman in eye-assaulting magenta robes, who immediately strode toward him with a notepad.

Hermione stepped through the fire behind him.

"Hello, I'm Rita Skeeter, from the Daily Prophet! That's some statement with those clothes, Harry! And I can see this pretty young girl,  
or should I say young lady is also wearing a sword! What do you think of the rumours? Are you two dating?"

"I uh don't know what rumours, I mean yes we're on a date..." Harry began.

"We're busy with important business right now." Hermione interrupted. "If you'd like an interview, send a letter to schedule one." Hermione turned to stride pointedly out to Muggle London.

"Right, we're going to get a house now." Harry followed her.

Behind them, Rita matter-of-factly stated, "So you're dating, and moving into a house together. That's fast!" She smirked like a devil.

Harry thought of denying it, but realized there would be no point as this 'reporter' clearly only heard what she wanted to hear, and followed Hermione.

"Ok, so we know the address, so we can just use the Knight Bus." Hermione said, once they were standing together on the kerb.

"It isn't that far though. We could just use the Tube." Harry suggested.

"In these clothes? Besides, we're carrying swords, we'd get arrested!" Hermione exclaimed, and stuck out her wand to summon the knight bus.

It appeared with a bang.

"All aboard!" Stan called. "Oi, wait, it's just you two. This isn't a taxicab you know. Nice clothes."

"Thanks." Hermione stepped on with Harry.

"Where to?"

"Um, here, I've got it. 17½ Argyll Road. Kensington."

"That's close. 6 sickles each." Stan didn't bother asking about hot chocolate.

Hermione counted them out. The two held on tight to the straps on the ceiling as the bus sped off and veered left and right over and over.

"Er. Well, the bus didn't think 17 and an half exists, so this is 17 Argyll Road!" Stan announced.

"Hmm, I don't suppose this is like platform 9¾?" Harry wondered, as the two stepped off.

Argyll Road was indeed a posh place. Large Victorian-style townhouses stretched down the street on both sides.

"Well, let's see." Hermione decided. They walked a little down the street from in front of 17, towards 18.

As Harry passed the halfway point, he felt a breeze and the street seemed to expand and the two attached buildings split apart, revealing a huge mansion with a peaked roof and plain brick walls, which stood out among the white-painted townhouses. It had a cobbled lane leading up to two large wooden doors reinforced with iron bars. The lane and the doors were large enough that you could drive a car in. There was another, smaller door beside the large ones, but Harry decided the large ones were the main doors.

He turned to see that Hermione was still walking and apparently hadn't seen the house appear, and grabbed her hand.

"Look, it's here, Hermione." He pointed out the large house which stood out like a sore thumb.

"What's here? I-" Hermione began, then turned to look where Harry was pointing. "Oh."

"I wonder why only I could see it?"

"Good security. I can see it now though."

"Well let's see if we can get in. I've got the key here." Harry pulled the bluish key out of one of his trouser pockets.

Hermione followed him to the doors. Harry put the key into the lock and turned. Silently, the doors unlocked and Harry, holding one doorhandle in each hand, pulled them open. Once both he and Hermione were inside, he closed the doors again, and their eyes adjusted to the dim light.

Beyond the doors, the cobbles continued through a short hallway into a wide garage with brick walls, lit by gaslamps hung from the stone-tiled ceiling. It didn't look much like any garage Hermione had ever seen, but she could tell it was because of the three cars parked in it. At the front was a Mini in red. Beside it, some sort of ancient Rolls-Royce in black. Beside that, under a tarp, a sloped, angular shape suggested a fast sports car. Hermione and Harry inspected the first two cars. The Mini had a small booster seat in the back, so presumably Harry had been driven around in it a few times. The Rolls had an ashtray on the dashboard, and up close, they could see that the steering wheel, windows, and the tires had runes etched into them.

"I'd like to learn to drive sometime." Harry remarked.

"I wonder if these cars fly like the one Mr. Weasley had? There are runes all over this one."

"The Mini doesn't have runes though. I think it's probably normal."

"I wonder where the keys are? Just to check the boot I mean." Hermione thought it wasn't a good idea to drive a magically enhanced car until  
Harry had learned to drive a normal one.

At the far corner of the garage, behind the sports car, was a door. Harry opened it to find a hallway, carpeted in deep burgundy. The walls were papered with a pattern of flowers in light gold on white. The gaslamps mounted on the walls lit themselves just as he opened the door. Several doors were on both sides of the hallway, and a few portraits were slumbering in their frames.

From the high ceiling, chandeliers with crystal glass lit the long hallway, which was rather wide. Above each door, there was a tapestry embroidered, with the name of the room. The one above the door to the garage read, "Automobiles". At this end of the hallway were the doors signed "Atrium", "Recieving Room". Continuing into the house were "Coat Room", "Dining Room", "Reading Room", and "Fireplace Hall". At the far end of the hallway, there was a door marked "Up and Down".

"Hmm, let's split up, since there are a lot of rooms." Harry suggested.

"Ok, I'll call you if I see something interesting."

Harry went in the Recieving Room, and Hermione entered the Reading Room. It had cozy looking plush couches, a table and a small bookshelf. On the table, she could see some notebooks and quills, left as if someone had just set them down. The bookshelf had some some other notebooks. Looking at the way one of the notebooks had been left open, she suddenly felt as if she was looking at a grave, and decided not to touch anything.

She checked the Dining Room next. There was a long table with three chairs clustered at one end, and one of the chairs was a high chair, obviously for the baby Harry Potter. Some stairs went down from the dining room, but she decided to check the rest of this floor first.

The Coat Room was a walk-in closet with various cloaks and coats, including some that rather resembled the one Harry had on.

She went out to the hallway and into the Recieving Room. It had been left in disarray, a coat rack was lying on the ground, and the carpet was scuffed up and folded in places. A double door led into the Atrium, which was in a similar state. Harry was reading a very yellowed piece of parchment. He looked up, a forlorn look on his face.

"Well, this letter explains a bit. Take a look." Harry gave her the scrap of parchment.

'James, Lily. You must come NOW to HQ, You Know Who is after your family. Take only what is necessary. I shall explain. -Dumbledore'

"So they rushed out and left the house as it was." Harry explained.

"I guess so. And no one came here until now, all this time, so things are exactly where they were 14 years ago." Hermione theorized.

"I also found the car keys in a cabinet in here. Did you find anything?"

"Someone, I think Lily, left some notebooks on the desk in the Reading Room." Hermione said.

"I see. I think I'll look at them later... Well, let's check the basement next."

"Well, first let's hang up our cloaks in the Coat Room."

Harry walked down the hallway, Hermione in tow. Harry found two vacant coathangers and took Hermione's cloak to hang it up.

Beyond the door marked "Up and Down", Harry found there was no floor.

AN: Sorry for the delay. I have more time now exams are finally over. Next chapter will be fast I think.


	4. Chapter 4

Synopsis: The young couple explore the Potter Mansion, and meet some portraits.

Beyond the door marked "Up and Down", Harry found there was no floor. The room was only a few metres square, but the room extended many storeys below him into darkness, and looking up, he saw there was a glass skylight several floors above. A few seconds after he opened the door, and squinted into the dark below, a carpet rose from the darkness and drew level, like an elevator.

"Flying carpets are illegal in Britain." Hermione complained.

"Maybe it doesn't count if it's indoors?" Harry suggested.

"Well, maybe. I haven't read the actual statute."

Once they were both standing on the carpet, which felt just like solid ground, Harry found there were markings on the carpet itself for each floor. "G" was in gold, and on its left there were circles containing "D", "Q", and on the right "B", "L", and "R", all in red.

"Hmm, I don't know which floor is which, none of these are numbers." Harry wondered.

"Well, the two nearest floors are B and D, so maybe, B stands for basement?"

"But then what would L mean? Lower basement?"

"Well, let's just try one." Hermione stomped on the circle marked Q.

The carpet descended probably twenty stories to the bottom of the shaft, passing an unmarked door reinforced with studs on the way. At the bottom, there were a few broomsticks scattered, Harry supposed they had been used before the carpet-elevator was installed. There was another door here, which was wooden and unpainted like the outer door of the house.

The door opened into a vast open space, much larger than the house above. The ground was dirt and was marked with a large oval in chalk, and at each end of the oval there were three hoops on poles. Harry soon realized that he was looking at an indoor Quidditch pitch, lit by a huge, unnaturally bright bonfire attached to the stone ceiling by chains.

The walls of the space were many yards apart, and were decorated with forested mountains in stone-cut bas-relief, descending to a frieze along the ground of trees in full-scale high relief. Had they only been painted, Hermione might have mistaken them for a real indoor forest. The stone roots of the trees extended into the ground realistically, even.

"Wicked!" Harry yelled.

"..wicked!" it echoed from the stone walls of the chamber.

"To think that your house would have an underground quidditch pitch, it seems your love of flying really does run in the family." Hermione chuckled.

"I should have brought my Firebolt!"

"There's a broom closet over there." Hermione pointed out an open shed with some brooms leaning on it.

"Hermione, hold my hat for a moment." Hermione obliged him.

Harry ran over to the shed and snatched a broom. As Hermione watched, he sprinted across the pitch, mounted it and took off while still running. He did some circles in the air at various angles and then flew out to the wall and along it at high speed, around the pitch. Having circled the pitch once, he came in low along the ground toward her and went from flying to running as smoothly as he had taken off.

"It's unbelievable, Hermione, this is full-scale, the same size as the Hogwarts pitch or any pitch for international competition!"

"Yes, and it's not just that." said a voice they didn't recognize, and Hermione practically jumped as she spun around.

Standing beneath one of the stone trees in the frieze was a stone man, also attached to the walls, with a large moustache, messy hair and wearing wizards' robes, all carved in stone. He waved at them to come closer.

"It's got runic charms to simulate weather of any kind you can think of, and altitude too. Right now it's set to simulate the weather outside. Oh, pardon me, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Charlie Potter, and if I'm not mistaken, you're Harry. You've got my hair, and Lily's eyes."

"So you're my grandfather? I've heard a bit about you recently." Harry replied.

"Only recently?"

"From Hagrid. He told us you fought on a broomstick during World War Two, er, I mean the second great war." Hermione explained.

"Oh, yes I did. Well, Harry, aren't you going to introduce this young lady?" Charlie changed the subject.

"Er, okay, um, Grandpa Charlie, this is Hermione Granger, my friend, er, girlfriend."

"I see. A charming girl she is. Now, I'd like to know where my grandson has been these many years."

Harry wasn't sure where to begin. "I've been with the Dursleys, that is, Aunt Petunia..."

For half an hour Harry told the statue of his grandfather the story of his life; how his parents had died at the hands of Voldemort; how Voldemort had failed, three times so far, to kill him; how he had grown up under very poor conditions at the Dursleys; how he had met Hermione, and saved her life from a mountain troll; and how he had saved Sirius from being caught by dementors.

For his part, Charlie was sympathetic. He had long assumed that his son had died since James had never returned after he left in such a rush. The fact that Harry had survived was great news to him.

"Well, you've handled those challenges admirably, Harry. I've certainly never heard of anyone achieving as much at such a young age, besides perhaps Mozart. Personally I was twenty-one years old when I fought my first battle of life and death. But never mind that. How did you find this house again?"

"I'll answer that" Hermione interjected "it started when Sirius Black sent me a letter saying he was concerned with Harry's wellbeing. He pointed out some things, and he encouraged me to act on my, er, crush on Harry. And I realized that I wanted Harry to be happy and it just wasn't fair the way he had to live with that horrible woman and dress poorly and eat poorly, why didn't Dumbledore do something!" By the end her voice was strained.

"I'm sure that Dumbledore had the best of intentions hiding Harry in the muggle world during wartime, but there's no reason he can't live here now, in his true home. Although, I'm just a portrait, not a solicitor or legal scholar."

"You look more like a statue than a portrait, though." Harry commented.

"Well, my frame is in the library. This frieze is flat enough that the charms let the portraits walk into it."

"Library? There's a private library here?" Hermione asked, suddenly excited.

"Of course. Most old homes have one. In this case it's rather large since my mother and wife each brought in large collections."

"Speaking of whom, does Dorea Potter have a portrait here?"

"Yes, she's in the same frame as me, but she's asleep right now. We've lost track of night and day since the house has been shuttered all this time."

Harry wanted to see the rest of the house. "Grandpa, can you follow us around the house?"

"Yes, there are paintings in most rooms, except the WC and bedrooms. Well, some of the bedrooms."

"Ok then, let's go to the next floor up. We'll leave the library till Grandma is awake."

Hermione wanted to see the library next, but it wouldn't be nice to wake an old woman up, even if she was a portrait.

They took the carpet-elevator to the floor marked D. The heavy door opened and immediately Hermione realized what D stood for. "Dungeon!"

It was stone hallway with barred windows in several of the doors. There was a glowing fresco on the hallway's ceiling of a starry sky, with the stars in many colors. Grandpa Charlie soon flew into that night sky. Now they could see him in color, his black hair so clearly resembled Harry's, and his clothing was identical to Harry's regalia.

"Sorry for the wait, had to fetch a broom from another painting. This is the only painting on this floor."

Harry noted that there weren't any convenient signs on any of the doors. "What are in all these rooms?"

"Er, there's a potions lab, a ritual room, a kitchen, a wine cellar, and some storage rooms full of weapons, muggle artefacts, and other junk. There's also some empty rooms."

"Hmm, none of that sounds too interesting, maybe I'll look into the storage rooms later. Let's keep going." Harry decided.

They once again mounted the elevator, and ascended to the floor marked B, since they had already explored the ground floor.

There was a similar hallway to the ground floor's here, and the doors were labelled in a similar manner. Between each door, rather than portraits, there were landscape paintings. Each one was an iconic street scene of a different European city in the late 19th century. The one of Paris included a half-finished Eiffel Tower.

The first door on the left was labelled "Bath" and the one on the right, "Toilet". After that were bedrooms, labeled simply "Padfoot", "Moony", "Master", and... "Harry".

Harry opened the door of what he presumed was Sirius' room first. It was decorated in Gryffindor gold with red carpet. There was a sagging, unmade bed, and posters all over the walls of famous quidditch players, sports cars, and girls in lingerie. There was a window overlooking London, and a chair and desk. Harry noted that there weren't any obvious belongings of Sirius left in the room.

"There's a huge bath, Harry!" Hermione had been checking out the bathroom and returned to find Harry examining Sirius' room.

Unlike Harry, she thought to look at the ceiling, and noticed that there was an oil painting stuck to it right above Sirius' bed, showing a well-endowed young woman in a corset and a miniskirt, sitting on a bed in what looked like the Gryffindor girls' dorms. At first she thought the painting was non-magical, but she could see the woman breathing.

She tapped Harry on the shoulder and gestured to point out the painting.

"Aww, you're no fun at all!" the young woman complained, "I wanted to see how long it took Harry to notice me!"

"Er, hello, what's your name?" Harry greeted the girl on the ceiling.

"I'm Jenny Black. No relation to Padfoot, since I was a Muggleborn."

"Er, okay, and why are you on the ceiling?"

"Well, when I was alive, I entertained men for a living, and I still do that now that I'm a painting, for fun. I can sing, dance, and do other things. You're too young to know about that though."

Hermione _did_ know what Jenny was insinuating, and blushed. "And you obviously knew Sirius." She changed the subject.

"Yes, of course, I've been with him since he was in fifth year. He found this portrait of me gathering dust in one of the storerooms of Hogwarts and got Moony to animate it for him. It was originally a self-portrait by the way."

At this point an adult witch wearing a large-brimmed black witch hat walked into the frame. Her hair was black with red streaks dyed into it,  
and she had fierce grey eyes.

"Miss Black! I hope you're not corrupting my grandson already!" she squared up to the younger witch, but her tone was more joking than scolding.

Harry was startled. "Er, Grandma Dorry?" He noted that neither of his grandparents looked very old.

"Yes, Harry, that's who I am. I have a lot of questions for you and the young lady you're here with. What was your name dear?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well Harry, Hermione, come up to the library, and we'll talk without you two breaking your necks looking at the ceiling."


End file.
